


just bros being bros

by ficfucker



Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series)
Genre: First Kiss, First Time, Frottage, Frotting, Gay, M/M, Pining, Slow Build, Slow Burn, but im dragging it out, i meant this to be short
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-16
Updated: 2017-12-24
Packaged: 2019-02-15 17:59:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,590
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13036449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ficfucker/pseuds/ficfucker
Summary: ryan has a crush and doesn't know how to articulate himselfshane is... well, shane





	1. Chapter 1

“Buzzfeed’s gonna scrap it,” Shane commented from across the hotel room. He was scrolling through his phone lazily, stretched out in bed, his legs crossed at the ankles, while Ryan typed away on his laptop in one of the white armchairs. “It’s not paranormal or crime, it’s gonna get trashed.”

Ryan gave him an unamused glance before going back to his screen. “Would you cut me some fuckin’ slack?” he huffed. “I’m going out on a limb here, ya know, to-to see what viewers think. Broaden horizons for us… It’s not ghosts, but it’s scary.”

“I mean, I guess.”

Ryan had proposed the idea of doing a season on vicious animal attacks, which was approved by the channel for them to at least film a pilot of it. That had lead them to the story of Travis the chimpanzee, who had mauled the friend of his owner in 2009, not killing her, but leaving her incredibly, tragically deformed; eye, nose, mouth, even arms mutilated by him. They landed in Connecticut, where the attack had happened, in hopes to talk to officers, locals, anyone who would be willing to discuss what they knew about the incident.

Shane, as always, was an unmoved object, unafraid of being killed or gruesomely pulled apart like string cheese by primates, apparently. He hardly seemed interested with the thought of researching animal attacks, which frustrated Ryan greatly. Shane didn’t believe in ghosts, yet always had fun filming and dismissing theories, so why was he so aloof when it came to this topic? Maybe he would remain distant until the network gave full approval to plan, film, and finish a season; dive into it once there was established acceptance. 

Conversation lulled, Ryan not willing to argue when he was trying to find contacts and quotes. Shane continued to dick around in bed.

 

“Are you going to sleep tonight or what?” Shane asked. He was standing in the bathroom door way, his toothbrush still in his mouth, now sporting red plaid pajama bottoms and a large black t-shirt with UNSOLVED in white over the chest; it looked like a homemade screen-printing. 

“Yeah, yeah. I-Give me a sec.”

Shane shuffled back into the bathroom, nearly closing the door, but leaving it slightly ajar behind him. The water ran like white noise while Ryan typed frantically in an attempt to finish his notes. 

Ryan looked over his work one last time, then closed the lid to his laptop, setting it on the chair he had been sitting in before joining Shane in the bathroom, who, oddly enough, was looking at himself shirtless in the mirror. 

“Dude, what the fuck?” Ryan asked. He wasn’t too aghast by the sight and unzipped his travel bag to find his toothbrush. 

“Is this a tick bite? Spider bite? Start of the bubonic plague?” Shane had both his thumbs pointed inward around a little red bump on his chest, no bigger than a pinprick, examining it in the mirror. 

Ryan squinted at the tiny mark and shrugged. “Too little to be any of those. Don’t worry over it.” He looked away fast, yet subtly, nervous about prying eyes; his own, of course, fearful of accidental gazes that seemed just a bit more than friendly. Ryan comforted himself by chalking it up to fragile masculinity, as he had been doing for the last couple months, as the thoughts germinated. Couldn’t be a crush. Shane was a bro, nothing more. 

“If I die in my sleep, I’m blaming you,” Shane said, picking up his black shirt and slinging it over his slender frame so it hung off him. “‘Ryan Bergara, well-known Anxiety Boy lets innocent friend perish from mysterious disease due to lack of concern’!” Shane announced, leaving the bathroom and flopping onto the bed. 

“Real funny.” 

Ryan brushed his teeth, flossed, and changed into pajamas: black boxers and a white muscle shirt. He rolled on some extra deodorant, worried he might sweat in his sleep if Shane pinned him under the blanket unknowingly. 

“Come on, princess, turn out the light.” 

“I am, I am,” Ryan muttered. 

Ryan got into bed and Shane was doing his last notification check on his phone, half curled into himself on his side, almost in the shape of a lightning bolt facing away from Ryan. Shane smelled nice, like Irish Spring and cut pine, and his hair was still damp from the shower he had taken before bed. Soothing, after Ryan had been looking at pictures of Charla Nash’s injuries; an attempted face transplant and lyme-disease issues after hand surgeries. Not the best thing to be studying before deciding to go to sleep. 

Ryan rolled onto his back and sighed heavily, rubbing his eyes in hopes to relieve the images of mutilated body parts he had sifted through on Google. He didn’t mean to cast prejudice onto people with disabilities or deformities, but raw skin hanging off in flaps chilled him to the bone. Even worse to imagine it considering it had happened in the town he was in, by a locally famous and known-to-be friendly chimp. 

 

Somehow, while they slept, Ryan had coddled himself up against Shane’s back in search of unconscious comfort, gravitating towards his warmth and smell. It seemed incredibly out of character for Shane to take place of what would be considered the little spoon. 

Ryan woke, practically clinging to the soft fabric of Shane’s oversized black UNSOLVED shirt, and blinked a few times in the darkness, checking his watch to find it was 2:34 am. His heart was at a steady pace, which was a bit surprising, since he felt so anxious. Maybe it was Shane’s warmth; he was like a portable heater. 

Shane must’ve felt Ryan stirring against him because he rolled over and draped a dead-weight arm across Ryan’s chest, mumbling, “S’alright…” 

Most of Ryan’s worry melted like butter simply from the touch, Shane’s little murmur turning his insides to cherry honey. He bristled then nestled in to him. Just bros being bros, consoling each other in bed together when one was scared, as bros are so often known to do. 

Right? 

 

Ryan woke to the feeling of heat pooling away from the bed and stubbornly lifted heavy-lidded eyes to see a blurry Shane Madej standing around in his tighty-whities. He was in front of the TV, which was quietly humming out the daily news, a bowl of cereal in his hand, shoveling spoonfuls in his mouth. Ryan tried to steady his vision, but despite that, the image of Shane bumming around in his underwear remained the same.

“Dude,” Ryan groaned, trying to roll out of bed and failing miserably. “Put some fuckin’ clothes on, you heathen.”

“Jealous of these curves?” Shane joked with a laugh. He struck an over dramatic pose, nothing but lanky joints, all elbows and knees, blue bowl of cereal still perched in his palm.

Ryan brushed past him to the bathroom to piss and brush his teeth and tame his hair. He was sporting some morning wood; prayed Shane was too busy voguing with his breakfast to notice the slight tenting in his boxers. Seeing Shane practically naked sure didn’t help. He couldn’t recall dreaming anything sexual, but sometimes neighbors downstairs would knock and you had not choice but to answer. 

Ryan pulled on a gray sweater and some jeans. No shoes, though. Film crew didn’t show until noon so the boys had a couple hours to kill and Shane clearly wasn’t in a rush to head out the door. 

 

Both them bummed around for a bit, Ryan lying in bed with his laptop on his stomach, Shane sitting on the floor, legs splayed out lazily like a child. They didn’t talk much, besides the occasional “Hey, have you seen this yet?” in regards to some kind of social media post. This went on casually until 11, when the recording crew showed up, and they went out to eat at a local diner before filming. 

During the interviews Ryan had scheduled the day before, Shane remained polite and quiet, only interjecting when he had a genuine question or concern. Ryan did most of the talking, directing the conversations. They did three of these interviews, with people who had personally known Travis and his owners. This lasted a few hours.

 

Back in their hotel room, Ryan sat on the edge of the bed, hunched over his laptop as he tried to decide what footage he wanted to present as the official pilot. Shane was showering. It was cold out and for whatever reason, Shane hadn’t packed the proper clothing; just a handful of thin sweaters that the wind nipped through easily, so a hot shower was the first thing on his mind once they got inside. Borrowing one of Ryan’s pom-pommed hats didn’t seem to help too much (though Ryan found it unadmittedly cute).

Suddenly, almost out of nowhere, Shane’s head peered over Ryan’s shoulder, nearly cheek to cheek and a slender pointer finger jabbed at the laptop screen. “There, that one, that’s a good shot of me… My beard is coming in thick, huh?” The finger retreated and Ryan, startled from the unexpected moment, could hear him stroking his facial hair right next to his ear.

“Jesus fuck, Shane, give me some warning first…,” Ryan panted. 

Shane let himself land back on the bed, stomach up, and lightheartedly said, “I was only trying to help, you always complain I never pitch in on editing shit.” 

“That doesn’t mean I want you sneaking up on me and being close enough to-to stick your fuckin’ tongue in my ear!” Ryan retorted. He wasn’t mad at all. If anything? Flustered. And christ, why did he have to phrase it like that? It sure as fuck didn’t help the stirring in his chest.

Shane lazily perked his head up. “Does that offer still stand? I’m down to wet-willy you.”

Ryan finally drew his eyes away from his laptop, to give Shane a disapproving glance, and found his friend to be shirtless, splayed out in smiley face pajama bottoms and a bare chest. Ryan’s heart rate ballooned to a hammering pace. Gotta brush it off.

“You bitch and moan about being cold, and here you are half naked?” Ryan tried.

“It’s warm in here. If it were up to me? I’d be naked all the time. Nude 24/7, baby.”

“Oh my god,” Ryan breathed out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> first time writing anything in regards to my boys; feedback is more than welcome
> 
> kudos encourage the ending for sure, suggestions will be taken into consideration


	2. chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a second part a day after my first upload ! 
> 
> received wonderful response to chapter one and i loved the animation the guys posted today (check it if you haven't), so in good spirits, here's the next chapter!

Shane and Ryan went out to eat that night at some fast food place not too far from the hotel, sitting together in Ryan’s car in the parking lot rather than in the actual building. Pain in the ass because Shane kept dropping his fries on the floor; “Oops, shit…,” followed by Shane leaning down to pick it up and promptly eat it. He did this at least 5 times and Ryan couldn’t help but let out a little wheeze with each happening, so enamored with this foolish asshole that it made him feel giggly.

They opted out of drinking and made their way back to the hotel, Shane leading and holding the door open for Ryan. Shane peeled off the thin blue sweater he had worn out, toed off his shoes, and slithered into bed without bothering to change or brush his teeth. Opposite to him, Ryan went about his nightly routine before joining his friend on the mattress.

“So much for being naked 24/7, huh?” Ryan commented, daring to press that topic.

“Asking me to strip, Bergara?”

That shut him up fast, getting awkwardly quiet as his face flared with heat.

“I’m not hearing a noooo,” Shane teased in a sing-song voice. “If I had cards, I’d offer to play strip solitaire.”

Ryan was working himself up so much with his own wandering mind and panicked thoughts, all he could reply with was, “Shut up, Shane.”

Shane laughed and rolled over to face him. “Suddenly shy about casual nudity between friends?” he asked.

“Oh yeah, that’s totally it.”

Ryan could vaguely see the outline of Shane’s face, a bit longer than his own, narrowing at the chin; bird-like nose, some of his hair drooping onto his forehead that Ryan desperately wanted to push back into place. His heart was almost aching and he knew he was making things weird; he couldn’t help it, though.

“See something you like?” Shane grinned.

Not knowing what to do with himself or the increased swelling of his admiration, his anxiety, his pulse, Ryan grabbed Shane by the collar of his shirt, straining to close the small distance between them, and pressed his lips to Shane’s. A little hum was Shane’s reaction, a little surprised, but sounding more like pleasure, or so Ryan hoped. His mind was white-hot blank, filled with stars and excitement.

He pulled away after a moment, burying his face to Shane’s chest in shame, and the taller of the two just laughed. “Guess you really did see something you like, huh, Ryan?” he chuckled.

“How the hell are you so casual with this?” Ryan asked, his voice muffled by the fabric of Shane’s shirt. He felt like a little kid who had just gotten caught coloring on the walls, expecting to be scolded for his actions, and yet here he was; Shane simply laughing the situation off.

“What? Do you _want_ me to make it awkward? What other options are there?” Shane’s hand took up place on Ryan’s back, rubbing up and down in an attempt to soothe him.

“Besides,” Shane continued in a whisper. “You’re not very subtle with the hints…”

Ryan nearly groaned, embarrassed out of his mind. He felt stupid as hell, but there had been a wave of relief when Shane didn’t panic or jump out of bed or whap him in the face with a pillow.

“W-We should… It’s late and we’re filming tomorrow and we should get to sleep,” Ryan said, finally finding his voice, peering his face up to sheepishly look at Shane.

“You’re right… We should continue this at home, more appropriate in L.A, right?” Shane said with a smile. He gave Ryan’s shoulder a little squeeze as if to keep him from pulling away.

“Continue?” Ryan echoed. His brows knit together, his stomach warm with sudden and not completely welcomed arousal, heart starting to hike to a higher rate once again.

“Mhm.” Shane let go of Ryan and turned over so they were no longer face to face. “Night night. Don’t let the chimps bite.”

Just bros being bros.

 

 

A week had passed since the weird first kiss thing in Connecticut and after one weekend back in L.A., Ryan called out sick two days in a row, not yet ready to handle whatever was going to happen between him and Shane. He submitted the pilot episode and was awaiting the reply, nursing his last possible day to pretend to be sick. He spent it on the couch, binging Netflix and eating popcorn and trying to ignore the knot in his stomach.

It became hard to ignore, however, when Ryan’s phone buzzed with a text from Shane.

_skeptic: need some soup? heated blanket? office is boring without you :-(_

Ryan hesitated to reply, holding his phone in both hands and just staring down at the screen. He slowly typed out a response:

_scaredy cat: feeling better be in tomorrow for sure_

_skeptic: up to hang out? my place or yours ;-)_

Ryan held in a breath. It was around 6 and he had been kicking around the house in sweatpants and an oversized gray hoodie all day. He hadn’t even bothered to shower. God, how was he supposed to face Shane?

His fingers betrayed his anxiety as they seemed to type on their own.

_scaredy cat: sure my place is cool_

_skeptic: cool over in 20_

Holy fuck. 20 minutes? Ryan turned off Netflix, gathered up the discarded popcorn bags that were strewn around the couch like depressive rose petals, and forced them into the trash. Quick shower. He headed towards the bathroom, pulling off his hoodie and wrestling out of his pants and boxers.

Ryan had just swung on a towel when there was a knock on the front door and he felt his heart spring into his throat. He didn’t have time to get dressed and made his way down the hall, calling out, “Coming! Hang on…!”

When the door swung open, Shane burst with laughter and smiled wide. “Christ, Ryan, one kiss and you’re brewing up cheesy porno plots?” He stepped into the house. “Opening the door in a towel? I’m not a pizza delivery man, you know.”

Feeling incredibly naked, Ryan rolled his eyes. “20 minutes isn’t exactly optimal time to get ready when I’ve being doing fuck-nothing all day and you decide to visit.”

Shane had already settled himself onto the couch without having to be told, scrolling through Netflix as if he was at his own house. “All I’m saying is I didn’t bring any pizza… or champagne, if you wanna keep it classy.”

“J-Just… shut up… I’m going to get dressed. Pick a movie or something.”

“On it, chief,” Shane replied, all too lax.

Ryan went to his room and pulled on an old Star Wars shirt he had lying around, maroon colored with a white silhouette of Luke Skywalker on the front, and pulled on a fresh pair of sweatpants. If anything was going to happen between them, there was no way in hell Ryan was going to sit there suffering with a hard on in tight jeans. That was unbearable. And he had a feeling Shane would absolutely love to tease him like that, which he was going to have none of.

He took a moment to compose himself. Look in the mirror and give a little, under his breath pep-talk. Best friends, known each other for years, trustworthy, it doesn’t have to be weird; all that kind of stuff. It only half worked (maybe less, maybe more like a quarter) because Ryan felt weak in the knees as he headed back to the couch.

Ryan sat on the opposite end to his friend and looked at the TV without saying anything, noticing that Shane had put on some thriller flick.

“As it turns out, I _do no_ t, in fact, have the bubonic plague,” Shane said with a silly smile. “You don’t have to sit that far over. I don’t bite.”

Ryan let his shoulders slump in the moment of solace, but as soon as Shane added, “I mean, unless you want me to.” Ryan was rigid once again.

The visual tension made Shane chuckle and lean over, swooping one long arm around Ryan’s shoulder and mashing him to his chest. He knuckled the brunette’s hair and Ryan huffed in disapproval, but still let his body melt against Shane’s.

“Are we just…,” Ryan started, but trailed off, trying to find the words that were wilting in this throat. “I-Is this how we are now? Are we just…?”

Shane let out a little hum and whispered, “Watch the movie.”

Listening to instruction, Ryan attempted to do just that and was enduring well until Shane’s hand drifted down to his thigh and began to rub tight circles through his sweatpants. Ryan let his breathing hitched and resisted the urge to squirm as little snakes of warmth traveled like lightning between his legs. Excitement pooled in his stomach, as if he was a teenager all over again, and he dug his nails softly into the exposed skin of Shane’s forearm.

“Something wrong, Ryan?” Shane asked. His voice was higher than usual with amusement, as to act innocent.

“N-Not at all,” Ryan sputtered out as Shane’s hand nestled to his hip.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> still not there yet
> 
> i enjoy being a tease :^)


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> finally ! smut !

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's christmas eve so here's an early gift for yall! 
> 
> enoy !!

The hand on his hip stayed where it was for a bit and the flame that was Ryan’s body cooled, despite his cock remaining embarrassingly hard, undeniably noticeable, though Shane had yet to comment. Jesus Christ, if Shane commented on Ryan’s boner, he would probably die of cardiac arrest on the spot.

Shane, without speaking or even pulling his eyes away from the screen, went back to Ryan’s thighs, this time using his index finger to trail long lines up and down.

“Sh-Shane, you dick,” Ryan hissed. His cock was starting to drool precum, twitching along to his heart beat, nearly trembling from Shane’s touch.

“Hm?” Shane glanced at Ryan and quirked his head to one side, like a puppy.

Ryan wanted to slap him. Ryan wanted to force his palm to the front of Shane’s jeans and torture him in even worse ways. Most of all? Ryan wanted Shane to bend him over the arm of the couch and fuck his goddamn brains out, to the point that he wouldn’t be able to walk for a week after.

Instead of acting on any of those impulses, Ryan leaned up and opened his mouth to Shane’s, who reacted with matched enthusiasm, pressing his tongue passed Ryan’s lips, getting him to moan softly. God, fucking _finally_.

Shane placed his hand to the small of Ryan’s back, as if to coax him closer, and Ryan took it as silent permission to get in his lap; more awkward than he intended, his boner straining his waistband, making it hard to move languidly. Both thighs to Shane’s hips, perched in his lap like he had been dying to be for a week now.

“How am I supposed to watch the movie like this?” Shane asked, grinning into the groove of Ryan’s collarbones.

“Would you shut up for once in your life, oh my god,” Ryan groaned. He could feel Shane’s cock pressed against his ass, seeming just as hard as he was, and he wanted nothing more than to grind down, get a reaction out of him.

“Sir, yes, sir,” Shane said, his voice hushed. He nipped at Ryan’s collarbone, and Ryan bit his own lip to keep from making sound.

Finding the nerve, Ryan pushed down then jutted his hips forward, getting Shane to shudder and he made a noise in his throat that was almost a growl. Good reaction. Hell, _better_ than just good. Ryan adored it. He continued this, carefully circling his ass over Shane’s cock, through the thick roughness of his jeans, and Shane’s head lolled back onto the couch, his eyes fluttering shut.

“Please,” Ryan found himself whispering, teetering on the edge of a whimper, a plea. There was a small damp spot of precum forming on the front of his sweatpants and Shane had yet to touch him there, not completely, his slender, heavy hands curled to Ryan’s hips to anchor him in place.

“Please, what, sweetheart?” Shane murmured. One eyelid lifted open, feather-like in movement as his lashes cast shadows onto his cheeks.

Ryan swiveled back to reposition so his cock aligned with Shane’s then thrust forward again, in an attempt to rut together through their clothing. “F-Fuck me, you piece of shit, Shane,” he grumbled. Frustration was getting the best of him. All the admiration for Shane, the dorky, lanky boy he was so terribly infatuated with, had bubbled into a desperate, lustful concoction.

A wheeze broke into a moan that Shane was clearly trying to keep to himself. “How charming,” he said, wanting to laugh.

Despite the comment, Shane pulled up on the sides of Ryan’s shirt (goodbye, Luke Skywalker) and shucked it off him, tossed over the couch without second thought. Shane went to tug on Ryan’s waistband, but Ryan stood on his own and stepped out of them, prompting Shane to unzip his jeans and kick them off along with his boxers. Nothing like casual nudity between friends.

Shane stood, still in his shirt, a little foolish and awkward, and guided Ryan onto his back, lying stomach up on the couch. Ryan wanted to pull him down into a kiss, his thoughts a hot trail of desire that kept looping back to Shane’s lips, but instead, he didn’t move, watching Shane unbutton his red plaid flannel.

With both of them finally stripped to nothing but their skin, Shane draped himself carefully over Ryan, and Ryan instinctively wrapped his arms around Shane’s back, clinging to him as if he were a life preserver and he was going to drown in the couch at any given moment.

“Not crushing you, am I?” Shane asked.

“Not yet, big guy,” Ryan said. 

Ryan was sure Shane could feel his heart hammering in his chest, his whole body one large pulse that was drumming through him. And then, of course, there was his cock, which was pressed up against Shane’s thigh, aching to the simple touch, alien and embarrassing.

Shane finally settled onto his elbows, stapled to either side of Ryan’s head, and aligned his cock to Ryan’s so their lengths brushed together, and Ryan gave an involuntary buck of his hips. Moving one hand down, the other keeping him steady, Shane curled his fingers around both their erections and began to pump his fist up and down.

“Oh, Sh-Shane, _fuck_ , I,” Ryan sputtered, his eyes blown wide. He forced his teeth to his tongue, melding his mouth shut so he didn’t babble on like he knew he would.

He couldn’t help it. Everything felt like velvet.

“Easy, baby,” Shane murmured. Even in the heat of their mutual arousal, he was cool and calm, much to Ryan’s envy, who was still struggling to keep his throat closed tight.

Ryan was melting. Between the terribly embarrassing wet dreams he had had and all times he had found himself daydreaming of soft-mouthed kisses, his was everything Ryan wanted.

“Good boy,” Shane praised. He rutted harder down on Ryan, his hair falling into his face.

“Sh-Shane,” was all Ryan could whimper. Jesus, he was helpless. He chomped down on Shane’s shoulder and suckled there, hoping to leave a purple layer of bruise there, maybe a ring of teeth marks, too.

Ryan’s thighs were starting to jiggle and his balls tightened, the heat in his stomach closer to molten metal than anything else. He undulated up, to meet Shane’s strokes, pulling a delicate sigh from Shane, his grip tightening to the perfect pressure around their shafts.

“I-I’m… I’m close,” Ryan whimpered. It felt like he was asking forgiveness.

Shane panted in his ear, haphazardly placing kisses, almost licks, on Ryan’s neck, as if he were a wounded animal and Shane was tending his wounds. “I’m close, too,” he hummed.

Ryan craned so his throat was exposed even further, pushing up as close he could into Shane’s warmth and movements; hips stuttered and Ryan broke into a tiny cry, Shane’s name hot on his lips, as cum coursed from his cock, landing on both him and Shane. The entirety of his body was a hot coil, heart rate spiked.

“F-Fuck...!”

Followed by Shane’s exclamation, Ryan felt a splash of warmth on his stomach and chest, Shane’s thrusts crumbling into chopped twitches before he slumped onto Ryan.

They were both breathing hard, chests heaving out of time with each other, and Ryan’s lips were laced with a tiny smile, eyes closed, completely euphoric. He ran his fingers down Shane’s back, a deep “mmm” of approval meeting him as a response.

“That was fun, huh?” Shane asked. His voice wasn’t husky anymore, back to being his quirky self only moments after orgasm.

“Jesus, dude, shut up…”

Ryan’s phone pinged with a notification and Shane reached for it, scooping it off the coffee table beside them and squinting at the screen.

“Hey! Buzzfeed approved your animal attack season!” Shane said, a laugh just below the surface.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> keep an eye out for my next buzzfeed work which im starting soon!
> 
> anyone like punk!shane aus?


End file.
